To Trust Ron
by Enchantress1
Summary: Everybody's all grown up and have jobs! Ron and Hermine are a couple, but they still haven't learnt all the ropes! Herm refuses to trust Ron and Ron's his usual possessive self, so they make a deal...
1. Chapter One

To Trust Ron

**To Trust Ron.**

**Chapter One**

**Misc. babblings, disclaimer and whatnot:** Ahem, I started this fic one boring Saturday night when I *dramatic voice* -suddenly- got an irritating itch in my hand to write! *Silly hand gestures* I can't explain it! *Waits for audience to give an understanding nod* It seemed to me as if Ron and Hermione were pushing me towards my little cubbyhole where I keep my deeeear ol' friend! *Pats computer* Oh, *sweat drops* am I scaring you? ^_^;;; *In a horrible, horrible accent* Pardon' moi', mes amis! (Let me assure you that the story is not as bad as these babblings! Heh heh heh! *Nervous cackle*) Well, J K Rowling owns all the original chara and even though I *know* she copied some of the stuff in her books from J RR Tolkien… I can't help it! I like 'Arry Potter! Ahem, and the rest of the new folks? Well, don't mind them! I hate it when people add their own characters, but trust me, how can ALL of the 7-8 characters we know of be in the same office? I had no choice!

WARNING: This fic can have and probably will have sappy thingies… I'm sorry to all you Rambo-loving girls, but I think R/H are *sweet*. And sweet can get sappy, so you have been warned! 

Anyway, on with the story! *Grabs the readers who were bravely trying to make a run for it* Oh, and one minor note, if you're read my other story (I KNOW you haven't! *points accusingly*) I'll have you know that this story takes place about 10 years later and you'll miss a VITAL, VITAL thingy if you don't read that! *Dramatic pause* Ah, just kiddin… *shuffles feet* read on read on… I promise to go into my corner and wilt… thanks for coming mina! ^_^

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"Hey, Herm, have you seen my socks anywhere?" yelled Ron, his voice muffled by the huge comforter he was smothered in. 

"Ahem," said Hermione, putting her hands on her hips and watching Ron as he tried to untangle himself from the tousled quilt. Suddenly, he fell off the bed and landed face-first on the ice skates he had worn the day before and had carelessly left on his floor- as usual. 

Choking back a laugh at Ron's early morning idiotic antics, Hermione went over to him and patiently helped him out of the heap of old shoes, magazines, skates, and an odd shoe lace or two littered all over him and the floor.

"Really, Ron!" scolded Hermione in mock anger. "Why were you looking for socks in your bed? And besides," she gestured towards the mess everywhere. "your room is a muddle! I'm surprised you can find yourself in the morning!" she finished and disgustedly threw a moldy banana peel into the wastebasket. 

"Would you stop scolding me and get me some ice?" answered Ron, holding his nose gingerly. "I think it's broken!" he wailed.

"Oh please! Noses don't break just like that! They're noses, not china! Here, let me show you!" said Hermione and determinedly grabbed his nose and yanked.

"Owwwwww!" yelped Ron and sped into the bathroom. "Now I _know_ it's broken! You tugged on it, Hermione! I know you did! I was there! Now you go away or else I'm not gonna come out, y'hear?" he yelled.

"Oh brother…" mumbled Hermione as she tried making her way out of Ron's room and into the lounge. 

"By the way," she called over her shoulder. "your socks are hung over the left lampshade."

*

"Oh my lord, we're so late! We are so darn late!" panicked Ron as he and Hermione sped along Incense Street, where the two of them worked. 

"I know!" replied Hermione gruffly. "And it was all your and your stupid nose's fault!"

"It needed medical attention!" yelled back Ron as they dodged a group of teenage witches and ran towards the huge stone building a few yards away. "Besides, who knows what could've happened if I had left it uncovered for long!" he finished and touched his huge bandaged nose.

"Yeah, your nose hair might've been frosted," mumbled Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"What was that?" Ron demanded as they stood catching their breath at the huge looming doors of the Ministry building. 

"Never mind," said Hermione irritably and walked in as gracefully as she could seem with a companion who had a white blob for a nose. 

They stopped at the end of the corridor and first scowled at each other for a couple of minutes. Then they laughed spontaneously, hugged each other and parted, each having a sudden thought of being glad to be alive.

"Hey, Hermione!" called Terry from his desk. Hermione had this feeling that Terry liked her, but she obviously wasn't interested. Ron and her were practically engaged and had always been best friends since school. And she loved Ron, stupidities and all. 

She waved back and smiled casually at Terry. 

"Yeah, hi!" said Amy and beamed at her friend. Hermione greeted her and took the steaming mug of coffee she handed over. "So, how's Ron?" Amy asked, not looking Hermione in the eye and trying to act nonchalant. 

"He's fine," answered Hermione with a knowing smile. Amy had always had a crush on Ron, but being Hermione's best friend and knowing about their relationship, she never messed in their affairs, she was too sweet. 

But, that didn't stop her from asking about him occasionally! 

_'It's funny how limited a person gets when they're committed,'_ mused Hermione idly as she plopped down on her chair. _'Lucky for me I know I've found him…'_ she thought and as she tackled her paperwork, her mind was wondering somewhere along the lines of "I do"…

*

"Hey, Ron, who was that babe I saw you with earlier?" drawled Ed Hurley, the chief editor of the Daily Prophet who had come over for his annual skepticism at how the Ministry was run.

"What?" Ron asked, looking over his paperwork and frowning up at the man. "What 'babe'?"

"Oh, come off it! You knew each other! Tell me, does she work here?" he asked and grinned wolfishly. "I _am_ free this Saturday, y'know," he added, shining the already-gleaming diamond cufflink on his suit. 

Ron still seemed a mixture of agitation and confusion, so Henry whispered, "I reckon he's talking about Hermione," and went back to his work, as if he hadn't said a word.

"Hermione?" cried Ron and glared at the intruder. "She isn't just any air headed 'babe', Mr. Hurley," he said through gritted teeth. "She's my girlfriend and doubt that she'd ever be interested in knowing when you are free!"

Ed Hurley simply cocked one of his already-arched eyebrows, which made him look even more devilish. 

In front of Ron's lanky frame, freckled boyish face and red hair, Hurley looked a lot more sophisticated and a 'man–of–the-world' type. 

He had steely black hair; an expressive face with pale blue eyes and always wore jet-black suits with a crisp white shirts. Even though his majesty over magic was well known and he was a very accomplished wizard, he refused to wear any robes or cloaks that his counterparts preferred over muggle clothes. 

"Relax, Weasley," he answered smoothly. "And don't be too quick in saying that she won't be interested… after all, she is _your_ girlfriend, how happy can she be?" 

And with that, he casually strolled out of the room, leaving behind a steaming Ron.

"Well, that was fun!" said Lucy from a corner, knowing she would have a great tale to tell Hermione and the rest of the girls. 

*

"And then Ron said, "You keep your hands offa ma girl!" Isn't it dreamy?" sighed Lucy as she sat back in her comfy sofa and wriggled her toes excitedly. "I wish I had someone who did that!"

All the female employees of the Education Department of the Ministry were sitting sipping at their usual steaming mug of hot chocolate and spreading the latest gossip. 

As expected, Ron and Hurley's clash was the main topics on the agenda.

"Actually, he didn't say that at all," said Vivian curtly; busy painting her toes a deep shade of scarlet to match her hair. "All he said was that Hermione was his girlfriend. Big deal," she finished, yawning.

"You're just jealous!" chorused two girls from the back, which started a giggling fit, excluding Vivian who was the brunt of the remark, of course.

"Whatever," she snarled and went back to her magazine.

"Exactly," said Hermione decisively, gulping the last bit of the chocolate. "It really is no big deal. Besides, Ed Hurley isn't going to ever find me wishing he would take me out, so there! And Ron knows that just as well as I do!"

"Still," Amy persisted. "You should be very happy to have a boyfriend like Ron! I know I would be!" she finished and then blushed, thinking she had said too much.

"Oh please," Eve rolled her eyes. "It's not like he proposed to her or something! By the way, Hermione, when is Prince Charming going to propose to you? It's been what, 10 years, since you've known each other?" she gave a cold laugh. "It's about time too! He won't chicken out, will he? He does look so immature!"

Hermione froze and felt herself flush. She knew Eve was just trying to make up for the fact that everybody just laughed at her friend, Vivian, but Hermione couldn't help feeling hurt. She had never really thought of getting engaged very soon. Sure, she thought about it often enough, but not practically, or expecting it in the near future.

Should she have? 

"Shut up, Eve! That's Ron and Herm's private matter and it doesn't concern any of us!" cried Amy defensively, after the initial hock of Eve's bluntness had worn off. 

At that moment, before the atmosphere could get any more strained, the bell sounded, telling that break was over and the girls hurried back to their posts.

Something tense still hung in the air though. 

There had never really been a serious argument between the colleagues and they way the opposing sides eyed each other, it seemed as though the argument wasn't going to be forgotten very soon.

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Wanna read my other story? ([And It Finally Dawned Upon Them…][1]) Wanna shoot me in the foot? Why not review instead? Isn't it easier to do than the other things? ^_*****

   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/sections/books/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=331666



	2. Chapter Two

To Trust Ron

To Trust Ron.

Chapter Two****

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**Disclaimer: I disclaim all that isn't mine.**

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They walked to The Cauldron, a popular hangout in the area, in calm silence.

Hermione had her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her fur coat while Ron tried in vain to keep the chill out of his hands by constantly blowing into them. 

All the passersby noticed them because of their silent, yet comfortable air, they thought that they made a fine couple. 

He was tall and lean with straight red hair and a frank face with trusting, deep brown eyes. His robes were clutched carelessly in his left hand while he was wearing mold green loose pants and an over-sized black shirt. Childishly, he didn't avoid the ice-cold puddles, but deliberately, his thick leather boots sloshed uncaringly into them. 

She, on the other hand, was tall, but about a foot smaller than him. Her glossy, coffee-colored hair was held by clasp at the back of her head and she was wearing little makeup, just a cream-colored lipstick and some rouge. Her off-white shoulder bag was bulging, probably with her robes she had also discarded and her pearly fur coat was not very stylish, but spotless in contrast to their gray surroundings. 

The sky growled ominously at them.

"It's going to rain, Mommy!" squealed a child delightedly, peering out of one of the numerous wooden windows spanning one length of the wall in The Cauldron.

Hermione smiled at the little boy as he pleaded with his mother to let him go out and was met with no commitment on her part.

They made their way to 'their' table: a small, round, solid oak slab at the back of the teahouse with a large brightly colored painting of a brass pan in the background. The feel was the place was smoky, wooden and brassy, a bit like an old fashioned kitchen, with old herbs and spices in large glass jars and dried stalks of lavender handing from the ceiling which seemed to have been made hastily from thick, coarse, wooden planks.

"Strange weather," Hermione muttered absentmindedly as she scratched idly at the wooden surface.

"I know," was Ron's answer as he let his gaze roam over her face. She seemed… disturbed. He wondered why.

"So…" she continued as a young witch apparated next to their table and unloaded their load of cappuccinos which fluffy cream and brown specks on top. "How was your day?"

"Pretty okay," replied Ron, scorching his tongue as he drank the steaming liquid too quickly. "Bours?" he asked as he dabbed a tissue on his callused tongue to make it feel better. 

Hermione laughed easily and that set his mind at rest. Maybe she was just feeling a bit under the weather. No big deal.

"Well, my day was going pretty normally until the coffee break when I heard how my knight-in-shining-armor protected me from the evils of the girlfriend-snatcher," she answered, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously over her coffee, which she carefully blew at to cool.

"It's in the job description!" Ron replied, grinning.

"Well, I'm touched," said Hermione, blushing slightly. Ron just smiled at her across the table and then slid next to her.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said brushing her hair away from her cheek. "At least I know I'm appreciated! That Hurley guy's as bad as Malfoy!"

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Hurley, maybe we could arrange a date to get to know each other better…" 

"Hey!" cried Ron, trying to look horrified at her blatant betrayal. 

Hermione laughed happily, making others turn and look at them and then smile knowingly.

*

"So, what now?" asked Hermione as they were driving through the drizzle in Ron's battered up blue sedan. It was seven thirty and both of them were hungry since they had decided to skip lunch after their heavy cappuccinos. Still, they were hard-working officers and after a long shopping trip which Hermione had forced Ron into, their limbs ached and their tummies rumbled. 

"Let's go to Harry's!" cried Ron, swerving the car dangerously to go turn to the opposite direction.

"Whoa!" yelled Hermione and saw other drivers wave their fists angrily at Ron. "Ron, you duffer! You're always doing those stupid maneuvers of yours! How many times have I…"

And poor Ron had to be subjected to her long lecture concerning traffic rules till they reached a multistoried building, a fifteen-minute drive away. 

They marched up the posh, white-carpeted stairs of Star Apartments with their soggy, mud-infested boots, Hermione chanting under her breath at each step so that the grimy footprints (that hurt her more than it hurt the carpet) magically vanished. 

They stopped at the familiar door of room 602 and barged right in, since they dropped by often enough ad never needed to knock.

"Honey, we're home!" yelled Ron, blundering in and flopping down on the silvery sofa and kicking his shoes away, thumbed them onto the lacquered tabletop.

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly and entered the master bedroom through the large glass doors, looking for their best friend. 

"Harry?" she called out. 

"Over here!" a voice beckoned from the room opposite. Hermione made her way into the black and white gleaming kitchen, only to find Harry bent over the stove while a young, attractive woman read out a recipe from a French cookbook. 

Hermione noticed that Harry's eyes were glowing and he seemed slightly embarrassed at Hermione's sudden appearance. 

"Oops, am I disturbing you guys?" Hermione asked, embarrassed herself as the other girl looked her up and down… suspiciously, as Hermione was surprised to notice. 

"Oh, no, no!" Harry denied as he wiped his hands on his apron.

"Of course not!" screamed Ron from the lounge, busy channel surfing. "We're family!" 

At the sound of another male's voice, the girl seemed to have lost some of her aggressive air.

"Lillian, I'd like you to meet my friend, Hermione… that's my other best friend, Ron, yelling from the lounge…" said Harry sheepishly, running his hand through his silky black hair and sprinkling crumbs into them.

"Well, pleased to meet you," replied the girl, smiling brightly. "It's so nice to meet Harry's friends… or family as your friend said!" she laughed in a strange fluttery sort of way. 

To Hermione, her tone seemed to say: Only _friends_, got it? Nothing else!

Hermione nodded and the three of them left the kitchen, and seeing them, Ron stopped gulping down the potato chips and salsa and focused his attention on the newcomer. 

She was wearing a silken, black sleeveless turtleneck, with spot-less white trousers. She was exceedingly pale with pouty red lips, arched eyebrows and smooth black shoulder length hair. Her eyes were lined with a fine stroke of silver glitter and her features were delicate and sharp. She also had a perfect figure, only she was shorter than Hermione.

Ron saw her and gaped.

Hermione saw him and frowned.

Lillian saw Ron and smiled sweetly.

Harry looked at Ron and an irritated expression crossed his face…

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Want to review this? I would be rather happy!^^

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	3. Chapter Three

To Trust Ron.        

Chapter Three****

**Disclaimer: I own what's mine and don't own what's not. **

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Hermione and Harry cleared their throats at the same time, looked curiously at each other, then at Ron who was busy making way for Lillian on the couch, and then went opposite directions.

Hermione, still frowning, made her way to the cushy one-seater next to the couch and sat down on its edge. She looked pointedly at Ron, who still looked in awe of the new girl and fluffed up some pillows for her.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she saw Lillian bat her eyelids and say: "Oh, you're too kind!" in that sugary voice of hers.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Harry did the same.

"So, tell me about yourself, Ron. What d'you do?" asked Lillian, propping her legs onto the sofa daintily and giving Ron her full attention.  

"Oh, boring stuff, basically," replied Ron, looking red and flattered. "You won't be interested,"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at this. Whenever somebody asked about his job, Ron had always answered passionately. He loved his job! He was in charge of the Wizard Gaming Department and that meant that he managed and arranged mostly Quiditch matches, which had always been his dream. 

Hermione was puzzled and irritated at his response.

"But Ron!" she said at last. "You never thought you're job was boring before!" she burst out.

Ron turned his head to look at Hermione's earnest one and frowned at her, looking embarrassed and mad at the same time.

"Oh, well, he probably means that it won't interest me. But not to worry… I have many interests! Do tell!" replied Lillian swiftly.

Hermione felt like gagging. Since when did Lillian know Ron well enough to know what he's talking about? But Hermione knew one thing: Lillian sure knew her politics. 

As Hermione boredly listened to Lillian's squeals of delight at Ron's interest at Quiditch and then as each related their favorite Quiditch stories, Hermione felt very left out.

Ron had his back towards her and all see could she was Lillian's beaming face. 

_'I ought to be sitting there next to him!'_ thought Hermione angrily, pushing herself back on the sofa. She folded her arms over her chest and sticking her nose into the air, trying to look uninterested in the other two's conversation and desperately hoping that she didn't at least _look_ left out.

Still, there was part of her that wanted Ron to turn around and tell Lillian about their relationship and then sit down with _her_.

But Ron didn't even notice her absence! He chatted away with the other girl as if they were old chums and at last, when Hermione couldn't take the giggling any more, she hurried into the kitchen. 

Harry was there, struggling with a large silver platter with a huge chocolate fudge cake sitting grandly on it. Without a word, Hermione went to his side and helped him unload the cake and other goodies onto two large trays. 

"Why didn't you just zap it up?" asked Hermione as she began wiping the marble counter with a cloth to clear away the smears of butter and egg yolk. 

Harry threw a couple of tissues in the basket and replied: "Lillian wanted to do it this way… said she did it once at friend's place and had thought it to be great fun."

"Well, she didn't do anything… and she did was yap with Ron while you did all the work," said Hermione complainingly, which was quite unlike her. 

"Angry?" said Harry softly, coming over to her. 

"Well, yeah. I guess I'm just being a meanie, but I had been feeling rather abandoned by Ron!" Hermione laughed. "He looks like he's never seen a girl in his life!"

"Really? 'Cause of Lillian?" 

Now Harry looked perplexed. 

*

As Hermione and Harry came back to the lounge to place the goodies on the sleek metallic table, which served as a mini-dining room, they saw that Ron and Lillian were still at it. 

"So, Li," said Ron and Hermione spun around, glaring at his back.

_'L-Li?'_ her mind shouted.

Blissfully unaware of Hermione, Ron went on: "Where'd you study and stuff?" 

"Well," Lillian began importantly. "I studied at Muggle schools almost all my life. My magical powers were rather a late discovery! I think it was my great, great uncle's second cousin who was a wizard… not I that I had ever heard of him until I put my most hated professor at Oxford on fire! You should have been there, Ron!" she smilingly placed her hand in his arm. "You would've loved it! It was hilarious when he thrust his head into the sandpit!"

"Oxford, huh?" said Hermione from the corner. 

"Why, yes, that's right," replied Lillian, looking at Hermione as if for the first time. 

"What subjects?" inquired Hermione quietly. Now Ron also straightened up so that he could have a broader view than just Lillian's face.

"I've done a PhD in English," she answered and then turned to Ron. "Languages always interest me! But I chose English, though I do love Latin!"

"Same here!" replied Ron and Harry looked at him, amazed.

"Ron, you can barely read English, let alone Latin!" laughed Harry.

Hermione snickered openly at Ron's red ears and Lillian patted Ron's hand affectionately and said: "Now, now," disapprovingly at Harry, making Hermione's blood boil.  

"Well, Hermione's great at everything she does," said Harry loyally. "She's the best!" 

"No, I'm not!" replied Hermione, going red. She smiled gratefully at Harry. She knew precisely why he was doing this.

"Well, no one can beat Harry as a seeker! You're the youngest in 3.5 centuries to be a twenty-four year old seeker playing for Britain!" Hermione returned the favor gladly.

"So, you're clever?" asked Lillian skeptically looking Hermione over with eyes half-closed. 

Hermione raised herself to her full height and through clenched teeth said: "I try," 

Lillian raised her shapely eyebrows and not to be overdone, answered: "Well, I was top in my class in everything too," she looked Hermione in the eye. "And I'm a model… the best actually," she replied smoothly. "But, I'm not beating my own drum, am I?" she looked searchingly at Ron.

"Of course not!" Ron replied, looking at her warmly. "You could never do that!" 

Lillian shot Hermione a smug smile. 

**

I'll write the next part soon! Hold on to your hair? (Who wears hats nowadays? Oro?)^^


	4. Chapter Four

To Trust Ron.        

Chapter Four****

**Disclaimer: JK = original stuff, me = weird new thingies. **

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Ron carelessly flung his robes and soggy umbrella through the doorway of his bedroom and thumped into the little kitchen. 

Hermione followed him in, then closed the door behind her and removed her coat and hung it on the peg at the back of the door with her robes. 

Their apartment was not a very large one, but they were comfortable in it. It had three bedrooms, a kitchen (which also served as a dining room), two bathrooms and a lounge-cum-study. 

Hermione's room was right next to the apartment door and was of a light shade of lilac. One wall was covered with photographs of her friends and family, another with a large painting she herself had painted of a white Persian and the other two were spanned with large light-wood shelves with all her books, stationary, medals and certificates. There was a neat little bed with a purple flowery bedcover in a corner and an off-white carpet. On the large window at the back of the room sat a large pot of poppies and directly underneath the window was her desk. Sunlight flooded the room for most of the day and a large straw hat was hung over her closet. 

Ron's, on the other hand, was totally different from Hermione's tidy abode. 

His was a room was quite like his old one in the Burrow. I guess old habits die hard. The room had bright orange walls, each crammed with posters of the 'Chudley Cannons through the ages' and pictures of him and his friends at various Quiditch matches. There was a large, brightly colored Romanian rug weaved with all the fiery tones on the floor and his bed was a large mahogany one. Needless to say it was incredibly cluttered, but one thing could be said: it had plenty of character.

Ron reentered the navy-blue lounge with a can of Butterbeer in his hand and grabbing the remote, settled down to make fun of a muggle program, Sabrina the Teenage Witch. 

Frowning, Hermione stood uncertainly behind him as he laughed at the way Muggles thought of their kind. 

_'Should I tell him off? I am pretty mad… the way he acted at Harry's place! Like he'd never seen a pretty girl before! Totally ignored me! I guess I should…'_

Making up her mind, she deliberately avoided sitting next to Ron on the couch, and instead sat down on the armchair opposite him.   
Before she could even open her mouth, Ron looked at her eagerly and smiling idiotically said: "Hey, Hermione, wasn't Li cool? Harry's one heck of a lucky guy! I mean, have _you_ ever seen a prettier girl? Where does he find these girls?" 

Hermione looked straight back at him, stupefied.

Ron looked back at her like a puppy waiting for his treat for performing a clever trick.  

"Aargh!" cried Hermione, standing up and looking down on a bewildered Ron. "Ron, you are such a-a buffoon! How can you talk to me like this?" she asked, her voice going squeaky. "Fine, we're friends, we're roommates, we're co-workers," continued Hermione, in a steadier voice and pacing around the room, her hands tied behind her back. "But we're also- we're also…" she stopped, glared at Ron and helplessly prompted him to complete her sentence. 

Ran swallowed and nervously replied: "Best friends? Really, really good friends?" 

Hermione stood transfixed in her spot, her mouth open. 

"At least," she croaked. "You could have said girlfriend and boyfriend!"

"Well, that does amount to the same thing," said Ron matter-of-factly, but seeing Hermione's face turn scarlet, he quickly asked: "Don't you think? No? Well, I think I'll go for a… walk…" 

Jumping to his feet, he hurriedly flung on his coat and made a run for the apartment door. 

He was almost there… two feet left… one foot… he's made it… he's turning the handle, the wind chimes clink…

"JUST HOLD ON THERE!"

"No…" sighed Ron, turning around slowly, only to face Hermione with her hands on her hips.

"We need to talk," she said gravely, dragging him away from the door, tickling him so that he would lose his hold on the doorframe he was clamped on to.

The door closed behind their retreating backs.

*

"So, how is your stupid roommate now?" snickered Harry over the line.

"Well, he's pretty much okay," answered Hermione in a hushed voice, twirling the phone wire in her fingers.

She stood talking to Harry in the kitchen and was trying to keep hidden from Ron who was in his room, busy reading comics. 

"Well, that's good… you guys have a knack of getting into huge arguments… remember when it was the Yule Ball? I mean that was one huge fight! I'd thought you guys would never…"

"Yeah yeah," muttered Hermione, blushing, cutting him off. 

"But, Harry," she wailed in a woebegone voice. "That just proves to me how…how not ready he is for a real… you know… relationship…" she said hurriedly, blushing even more furiously. 

"Well, Herm, I don't think you oughtta push it. Ron just wants to get at the top of his department these days. It's his aim. You havta let him reach that and then do something. Give him time! And keep in mind that he considers you his best friend too. That's why he told you about Lillian! I know _I_ wouldn't tell my girlfriend about another girl… but then again, I don't wear neon orange earmuffs on my nose to keep it cozy…"

"I geddit! I geddit!" laughed Hermione, feeling better. "You're right, y'know. I guess I shouldn't be so uptight. Ron is pretty much a kid still!" Hermione answered, her eyes growing soft. "Thanks! You're very smart, you know? And you really made me feel better," 

"Don't worry 'bout it, Herm. And take care of yourself and him, k? He needs you more than he lets on," reassured Harry and rung off.   
Hermione eyes grew a soft light about them as she replaced the receiver and saw the couple on the TV walk away down a street, hand in hand. She blinked slowly and sighing, hugged herself. 

"Ah-ahem," 

Raising her eyelashes, Hermione saw Ron in the doorway and smiled sweetly at him. 

"Hi, Ron," she said dreamily, still watching her soap opera through the kitchen window. 

Ron scraped the chair loudly on the floor and grumpily flung himself on the chair, making her jump. 

"So," he growled. "Who was that? You were pretty friendly with that guy," he remarked.

"Huh?" asked Hermione, puzzled. "On the phone?"

He nodded vehemently. 

Hermione was about to say, "Harry of course!" but managed to stop herself. "How'd you know it was a he?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. 

The couple on TV was now talking about the importance of trust in a relationship. 

"Well, I…" struggled Ron, his ears bright red. "I… accidentally… turned on… the …speakerphone… outside…" he muttered. "But the important thing is: who was he? After all that about trust and stuff, you oughtta tell me before you call guys, y'know!" he snapped. 

"Ron," said Hermione slowly and trying to keep in temper in control. "That 'guy' happened to be our best friend… a male named Harry Potter, who was telling me to be nice to you!" 

Ron buried his head in his hands. "O boy…" he mumbled. 

The couple on TV was now declaring their everlasting love to each other. 

"Shut up!" snapped Hermione at the oblivious pair and angrily turned off the television. "And you," she bestowed one of her worst looks on Ron. "Are im-po-ssi-ble!" 

Ron inwardly cringed as he heard the angry slam of her door. 

**__


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